Like a Flutter in the Wind
by Kainos Ktisis
Summary: What should have been will never be. Reality is as ephemeral as the wind. Four individuals, four drabbles introducing a very different beginning.
1. Success

A/N: I've been toying around with this for quite a while now and I've seriously tried not to let my muse run free because of all the other stories I'm working on, but it's not working. Every creative juice wants me to come back to this so I have. Sort of. What I've posted here is a series of four drabble-like introductions, if you will, to the four main characters of a longer story I'm working on for FFVII. I'm posting this as a separate story because I don't think I can actually fit these in to the main story, but I really like the emotions and history that's conveyed in these. Hence, why I'm posting it separately. As for the story that this prologues, it's something of a what-if spin-off of the game. I'll explain more if I ever decide to post it.

In the meantime, let me know what you think about these. I made the identities of these four people somewhat vague on purpose, but I don't think it's too hard to figure out. Like I said, feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks!

Disclaimer: All references to people, places and things from Final Fantasy VII are courtesy of an entity called Square Enix. I make no monetary profit from borrowing their characters and messing with their heads.

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**LIKE A FLUTTER IN THE WIND**

**Success**

Success is a difficult thing to measure.

He is successful, if success means having respect, power, and a solid—if not well-above average—income. He is successful, if that means being the youngest person to make it to the top rank of SOLDIER First class. He is successful, if you listen to the awed whispers that tell of his inspirational underdog story, of him fighting through adversity to achieve the position he is in now.

He is successful if success comes empty. Since childhood, his dream had been to become a First Class SOLDIER, just like his own hero had been. For years he worked himself toward that singular goal, disregarding everyone who told him he was too weak to make it. He's forsaken home, family, friends in his pursuit and only now did he realize that success could be so utterly unfulfilling.

Because as successful as he is, his heart feels empty and for the life of him, he cannot understand it.


	2. Bullets

**LIKE A FLUTTER IN THE WIND**

**Bullets**

By all accounts, he should be dead. They'd pumped him through with enough lead to sink a sailboat, but miraculously, all his injuries had been superficial. Not one bullet had pierced him where it mattered. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell to extract the shells though. His hands were steady even as he yanked the makeshift bandages tighter around his wounds to stop the bleeding. He's probably only halfway through with the bullets. Damn.

He should be dead. There'd been over a hundred Shinra Thirds after him after all. As impossibly strong as he was, a SOLDIER Third was no pushover, never mind a hundred of them. But he had refused to give in, refused to die. He'd fought, even though his muscles screamed with overexertion and his vision blurred from all the blood that splattered in his face. He'd fought on, and somehow, he'd lived while they did not.

He should be dead. Eyes too deep, too blue to be natural narrowed into dangerous points. But he was not and Shinra will have hell to pay for it.


	3. Alcohol

**LIKE A FLUTTER IN THE WIND**

**Alcohol**

She's much more comfortable with flowers than alcohol, but at this point in life, she supposes she doesn't really have much of an option.

The moment she'd stepped into the bar, she knew that she'd exchanged the gentle hands of a life-giver and that sweet floral aroma that still teases her senses even now for the arid stench of fermented barley. It was an exchange that she'd willingly made, even if circumstances had all but forced her hand.

After all, if it means safety for the only family she has left, she'll do anything to ensure it, fighting until the bitter end.

And bitter it has been indeed. Her mind wanders once again to a boy she once knew, a boy whose easy smile and laughing eyes made her insides flutter and her lips to turn up at the sight of him. If…if he is still out there, he wouldn't be a boy anymore and she wonders if he still remembers her.

She refuses to consider the possibility that he might be dead. After the all, the Planet… Although the Planet refused to tell her if he was still living, neither had it brought news of his passing.

And so she'll stay here for now. She'll mix her drinks and try to push out the haunting calls of her flowers to return to them because she knows he'll come back to her someday. And this…this is the only way she can stay alive long enough to wait for him.


	4. Fighter

**LIKE A FLUTTER IN THE WIND**

**Fighter**

She thinks she could have been a fighter. She certainly trained enough for it when she was younger. But that was when she younger, when she hadn't really known what it meant to fight. She could probably still pull some moves from her muscle memory that would shock everyone who knows her now, but then again, the people she knows now, everybody knows better than to prod into others' pasts so even if anyone was surprised, they would never ask her about it. Never ask her why she isn't a fighter anymore. It's better that way, she thinks.

No, she isn't a fighter. Or at least not anymore. Or maybe she was never a fighter to begin with, or else she wouldn't have broken that easily, would she?

No, she isn't a fighter. She lost that fire years ago when that very same thing stole everything she knew from her. Fighting brings too many problems, too many complications that she can't afford. She wonders when she became such a coward. She thinks it must have happened around the same time that she decided to forsake her sad existence for death. It didn't work out how she'd hoped it would, she thought wryly as she gently fingered the thin scars on her wrists that has still yet to fade.

No, she's not a fighter. But something deep inside of her thinks that she probably could have been a damn good one.

"Ruby, there are guests waiting."

She laughs darkly. There are always guests waiting.

She turns to the doorway to catch only a glimpse of the back of the other girl, Rachel or Rochelle or something or another. People passed through places like this too quickly to really form any sort of identity, unless of course one happened to achieve the fame (notoriety) she herself has. With a small sigh, she takes one last assessing look at herself in the mirror before standing and straightening out her uniform.

She's not a fighter but that doesn't stop her mind from wondering how different everything might have been if she were. She shakes her head. But look at her. Even now she's more of a dreamer than a fighter.


End file.
